Final Fight 5: Face of an Angel

Hot, muggy night, middle of the summer. Thunderstorm washing over the grey haze of the big city. People are hiding under wet newspapers and broken umbrellas, and rushing. Constantly rushing. The rain doesn't help. And it doesn't dilute the caked on filth that clings over the city like a grimy mask.

Johnny Olympus walks down the street, wearing an overcoat over his tailored suit. He doesn't look bothered by the rain. He has other things on his mind, the least of which, are rain.

He is a man at war. An intense, obsessed soldier attempting to fulfill a final goal. A lifetime of hard work, blood, sweat, and tears all boil down to this. Wrestling God 2.

A little bit of rain cannot stop him from achieving his ultimate dream. This tournament... is HIS.

Olympus stops at a corner as the light turns green. Traffic crawls forward. Suddenly, a black limousine coming up 5th Avenue pulls over to the curb and the passenger window rolls down.

"Johnny! Your all wet. Climb in."

All across the pro wrestling world, eyes are turned toward Wrestle God. Everyone is watching. And the combatants are all carefully watching each other. The first two rounds are over. The cannon fodder is all used up. Now the real war begins. And there is no demilitarized zone.

Olympus climbs into the limousine and grabs a seat across from his longtime manager, Mister P. Sipping on a vodka martini, Mister P is as always dressed to the nines, Armani... everything. His bowler hat is resting on his lap, his ivory cane leaning up against the seat across from him. The limousine pulls away from the curb and begins to enter traffic.

"Rayne. Recently joined the up and coming federation, CORE. Also loosely tied to the HWF. I have whatever information I could gather right here."
Olympus removes his wet overcoat, at the same time reaching for a glass of cognac being handed to him. He looks up startled by the very large, white hand holding out the drink to him. It's not the dark-skinned arm of Mister P. Olympus smiles as he recieves the drink. He tips his glass as he takes a sip.

"Cheers Chyna Bruce. Nice to see you."

"Nice to see you too Johnny."

The figure of a very large... person, shifts in the shadows of the limo seat next to Mister P. An overhead light goes on, and Chyna Bruce is bathed in a yellowish light. The spitting image of the WWF's Chyna, except for the large adam;s apple bobbing up and down at his throat, Chyna Bruce is a part-time drag queen, and part-time bodygaurd for Johnny O and Mister P.

"You must feel a bit thrown off by your third round opponent, it being a woman."

"And you must be thrown off by that wonder bra your wearing Bruce, being your a man."

"Touchè, you silly goose!"

Olympus smiles as he gulps down the cognac and places the glass in a holder on top of the mini-bar. The limousine males a sharp turn at the corner of Houston and 6th Ave, causing Olympus to lean to one side as he reaches for the folder being held out to him by Mister P.

"Rayne... Rayne... Rayne... I don't see a piture here Mister P."

"No picture. Why do you need a picture? Haven't you seen her? She's been wrestling in the same tournament... you mean you haven't even watched herin the ring?"
"You know me P. I show up, I win, I leave. I don't hang around to watch what other people do. Until they become my paroblem of curse."

"You don't need a picture. You just need to know the basics. She's good. VERY good. 5'8" tall, 140lbs., but do NOT... let her smaller frame fool you. She can move. And she can deliver some powerful blows."
"Obviously."
"Born Eternity Devine, in Monokai, Hawaii. Or so people think."
"Or so people think, huh?"
"The woman known as Rayne is an enigma, a mystery. But many people believe that she is this little girl who was repeatedly, raped and abused some 8-10 years ago, and then vanished. That little girl's name was Eternity Divine. Her father was arrested and sentenced to life in prison. Rayne has made a few suggestion as to her connection with that poor little girl that was abused and murdered. But nothing can be substantiated."

"Hence, this mysterious aura that Rayne has enveloped around her."

"An aura that so far in this tournament has proven to be quite an asset. She been predicted... to beat you this Saturday."

"Umm... didn't we already talk about all these "predictions". Let's get past that shall we, and deal with the problem at hand. Rayne."

The limousine rumbles over a series of potholes as it heads toward the George Washington ridge. The rain outside continues to fall. A bolt of lightning illuminates the sky, and thunder rolls in the distance, as Olympus and his entourage prepare for war.

"Rayne is for all intents and purposes, a rookie. I don't care how many feds she's been in, or how mnay titles she has won, or anything like that. Just because she is the hottest thing in tights at the moment doesn't make her unbeatable. An invitation to CORE doesn't mean rayne has what it takes to survive inside the squared circle, with "The Greek Physique". And even though I don't take ANYONE for granted... she IS a woman. I out weigh her by 100 lbs."

Olympus reaches for the bottle of cognac, but gets his hand slapped by Chyna Bruce. Olympus winces in pain as he jerks his hand back but at the same time snickers at Chyna Bruce's overacting.

"Um, excuse me? JUST because Rayne is a woman does not mean she isn't a real threat inside the ring. Look at me. I could beat most of the Wrestle God 2 men without breaking a sweat."

Olymus looks at Mister P's expression and laughs, and his manager follows with a guffaw of his own. Chyna Bruce's lispy psuedo-female voice is enough to make even the most stone-faced killer crack up.

"Your a guy Bruce! You don't know the first thing about being a real woman! Ha ha!"
"That's so unfair."

"Unfair? I'll tell you what unfair is. Unfair is what Rayne is going to walk into come Saturday night. Forget the fact that she is a raw rookie, and a woman. I have seen the reports. I know the kind of "game" Rayne brings to the table. She is overmatched, bottom line. What people over the intrnet, and in the newspapers, and backstage want to predict is one thing. The truth is a whole other story."

"You've done very well for yourself in this tournament so far Johnny, but Rayne isn't Riot, and she isn't Sekmet of Venom."

"That's right. And she is NO... Johnny Olympus either."

Olympus looks Mister P in the eyes, the conviction etched in stone across his grim visage. He shoots the warm cognac down his throat as more thunder rumbles in the rainy distance.

Fast forward......

A private home movie theatre, inside the mansion of the self-made "Manager of Champions", Mister P. He stands in front of the wide screen movie theatre screen, VHS tape in hand. Johnny O and Chyna Bruce are sitting in the first row of the room. The lights are dimmed, but there is still enough of a yellow glow to see the smug look on Mister P's face. He loves an audience.

"After two weeks in the Wrestle God 2 tournament, Rayne has shown herself to be quite the competitor. Aaron Awesome.... Steven Delirious... both of them LOST to her. Say what you will about Rayne's popularity and sudden fame, her abilities and skill level are what got her through those first round matches. Underestimate her, and be swiftly shown the error of your ways."

Mister P pops the tape into a slot built into the wall, and uses a remote control to dim the lights.
The song 'Just a Girl' by No Doubt starts to play, as we see Rayne in the ring going at it in her first round match against Aaron Awesome. Mister P stands to the side of the screen holding a long pointer.

"As you can see from her first round victory, Rayne is a high-flyer with a very good background in some form of martial arts. Her kicks are all on target, delivering maximum damage upon impact. Stay away from those kicks. Watch for them and avoid them, or face the consequences. You might think you can overpower her, and you probably can, but she's lightning fast... and merciless."
Johnny Olympus says nothing. He is staring at the screen, his brown eyes intensley focused on his third round opponent. He watches every move she makes, delivering her stunning kicks, or working with agility from the top rope. Like a computer his mind is racing.

"She is no stranger to top-rope manuevers. Frog splash, missle drop kicks, hurricanrana, suicidas, planchas... you name it, she can do it from 15 feet above the ring. If there is one area she has you beat, it's her agility. She is FAST, and I cannot underscore that fact any larger. How deliciously appropriate, don't you think? Pound for pound you can match up against anyone in this tournament, and you get a woman with the speed of a snake in your third round match."

The clips switch to Rayne's match against Steven Delirious. Olympus doesn't blink. He looks entranced, completely hypnotized by this woman as she annihilates her second round opponent.

"You have the strength, you have the size and weight. You have the amatuer wrestling background. You probably have the advantage in the endurance department as well. But she is faster then you. It's a very big advantage for her."

Thoughts race through Olympus' mind. All centered around this magnificent athlete he is scheduled to meet next. He never gave his other two opponents a second thought, but this foe was different. She had allegedly been through hell and back in her life, and he admired her fierceness. He found it hard to imagine her, one-side clean and seemingly perfect, the other scarred. And he hoped, he prayed, at this moment his duality wouldn't show. Because deep inside his mind he knew if he faltered in that way, not all the angels in heaven could save him.

Mister P raised his voice for a moment, catching Olympus' mind wandering and causing him to blink and look up.

"Am I boring you Johnny O? I suggest you pay attention dear boy, because this woman is no cake walk. Not impressed with her high-flying skills?"
Mister P's voice sounds annoyed and just a tinge angry.

"She throws a mighty nasty backfist as well. Throw in a few bread and butter technical moves just for flavor. And, oh! I am sure you'll appreciate her dragon sleeper if she gets the chance to slap it on you. And of course, last... but certainly not least, the Rayne Drop. Piledriver. Meant to cause painful, stunning, and sometimes fatal impact due to spinal column injury. How lovely. I know you've felt more then a few of those in your time Johnny boy..."
Mister P throws the pointer across the room, and gets right in Johnny O's face.

"But stop acting like you just got one 5 minutes ago! Your head is not in the game! Do you think this woman is going to lay down for you like some $1000 a night whore?! This bitch is going to serve you your head on a silver platter! Get you god damn shit together boy, or else your going to be just another statistic in this tournament!"

Mister P storms out of the room, flinging the oak double doors open as he leaves. Chyna Bruce slowly gets out of his/her seat, pats Johnny O on the back, and follows Mister P.

Johnny O doesn't move, doesn't blink, doesn't acknowledge what just happens. He stares at the video screen, at rayne, with a very strange, yet wonderful expression on his face.

"But... she's beautiful."

Static...